


Maybe Next Year

by holystardown



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holystardown/pseuds/holystardown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightly based on Miracles in December MV</p><p>To My Angel<br/>I still miss you<br/>I love you</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Next Year

Sometimes things just were, Joonmyun realized as he tilted his face toward the sky, cheeks lighting up with every nip of cold that gently fell onto his skin as his grip tightened around the bright red box in his hands. The bow he’d spent almost an hour tying just right around the middle would probably be ruined by now, he knew, but he couldn’t help the way his hands shook and his nails bit into the silky fabric, unrelenting and unforgiving as the chill seeping through the flimsy sweater he couldn’t help throwing on instead of the coat he’d bought not two weeks prior; the knitted reindeer dancing across the front were beyond hideous and he was pretty certain that the threads around the elbows were saying their last goodbyes, but not wearing it would have made his heart ache more than he was willing to bear.

This is the last time, he promised himself as he pried the box from his own hand and laid it down among countless burnt-out candles, dried out and warped from age, and half-finished canvasses. One of them was fresh, he noticed when he was at eye level with the small memorial, taking in the lone candle with the embers still faintly glowing and a wisp of smoke slowly curling into the sky. There were no signs of life anywhere near the memorial- no footprints in the snow and no movement beyond the steady trickle of snowflakes coming to kiss the ground. Three years ago it wouldn’t have been unusual to find new candles flickering beside the freshly painted canvases or flowers strewn across the pavement, as vibrant and beautiful as the man they were left for. But no one had been here much since then; the shock had worn off and people had moved on with their lives. People other than Joonmyun.

Eventually the tiny ember drew the last bit of oxygen it could and disappeared with nothing more than a bend in the steady stream of smoke, the ashen plume spiraling up and up and up until it dissipated into the sky to play no more. Joonmyun’s hand left the box’s edge after smoothing down the card tucked beneath the once-perfect bow.

Maybe not this time, he whispers to no one, and turns his back on the only things of Wufan he’d allowed himself to keep.

 _To My Angel_  
_I still miss you_  
_I love you_


End file.
